


Between the Lines

by Himmelreich



Series: Every Wednesday, I'm here, in jail [6]
Category: Aldnoah.Zero (Anime)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-12
Updated: 2015-05-12
Packaged: 2018-03-30 04:16:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3922561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Himmelreich/pseuds/Himmelreich
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>“Do you know what day it is?” was Inaho’s choice of greeting as he set down a small bag on the floor, unbuttoned his jacket and sat down on the opposite side of the table, and Slaine thought he could just as well have marched in asking </i>What is five times seven?<i> or </i>How long do you boil potatoes?<i> with the same earnest tone despite the absolute random string of words.</i><br/><i>“Good day to you, too,” he replied with raised eyebrows, and Inaho blinked. Apparently, he really was past noticing his occasional rudeness, and Slaine was not sure if that made matters better or worse.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Between the Lines

“Do you know what day it is?” was Inaho’s choice of greeting as he set down a small bag on the floor, unbuttoned his jacket and sat down on the opposite side of the table, and Slaine thought he could just as well have marched in asking _What is five times seven?_ or _How long do you boil potatoes?_ with the same earnest tone despite the absolute random string of words.  
“Good day to you, too,” he replied with raised eyebrows, and Inaho blinked. Apparently, he really was past noticing his occasional rudeness, and Slaine was not sure if that made matters better or worse. “As to your question - since the night guards rotated shifts yesterday, I suppose it’s Wednesday.”  
Inaho made a noise of agreement, but looked somewhat testing as he continued: “I meant, do you know what date it is?”

Slaine frowned at that. By now, dates were nothing he kept track of at all, because there was no point to it, really. He had not been condemned to a sentence with definite length so that he could count the days left until his release; for all he knew, he had a life in containment awaiting him, and even if anything should change, it probably would be in a spontaneous, unannounced way. There were few markers he had as to the passage of time, such as Kaizuka Inaho’s visits and the work schedules of the guards, regularities his mind could not help but notice. If one had spent two years of planning and scheming, it proved impossible to just switch that analytical and wary part of one’s brain off entirely. Nevertheless, he made no conscious effort to tell the days apart, time blurring into a stretch of calm and quiet.

“No,” he answered the question slightly delayed, “but I remember the guards brought me some cake leftovers from New Year’s celebrations not too long ago, so it’s early January, most likely.”  
Inaho did not react, but simply looked at him in that very Inaho way that somehow always seemed to be quietly judging. Slaine did not care, whatever Inaho thought of him for not being able to discern dates only a good half a year into his imprisonment was not his concern.  
“It’s Wednesday, January 11th,” Inaho then announced, sounding just slightly like an automatic speaking clock.

It took Slaine several long seconds of silence, Inaho staring at him with some odd mixture of expectation and caution, until he realised, and all he managed in response was a soft “Oh”.  
More silence followed, until Inaho said: “That was not the reaction I was expecting.”  
Slaine felt himself smile before he knew it, the vaguely obliging, non-binding expression he had adopted automatically over the years of reacting to people disappointed in his actions.  
  
“What were you expecting, if I may ask?”  
“You getting angry at me for bringing it up,” said Inaho, tilting his head to the side with a frown, “or maybe a thank you for me noticing.”  
“Well, I know you have all that information on me, anyway. I just don’t particularly care for such dates, so it didn’t occur to me,” Slaine explained with a shrug. “During the years I spent as a servant no-one bothered remembering, and during the two years I spent as a Knight I had other things on my mind than celebrating such a meaningless day. I know earth was when I still lived here, but Vers in general is not big on birthday celebrations as long as it’s not royalty’s.”

“I see.”  
Inaho obviously filed the information away in some of the mental dossiers he kept without question. When Slaine did not respond immediately, he continued: “Celebrating birthdays is still an important ritual in most of earth’s cultures, and even if you’re still named a citizen of Vers in official documents, I thought I should take the time to congratulate.”  
“Thank you. I appreciate the gesture.”  
Slaine smiled, honestly this time, because he was sure that Inaho did mean it. As much as he was a genius in strategy and combat, as entirely clueless he seemed to be when it came to social interaction at times, and he probably had not even thought about how his well wishes upon a new year one’s life might sit with someone who had wished for death just months ago.

“I would have brought a cake,” Inaho went on, and again seeming so absolutely upright about it that Slaine had no choice to believe that yes, indeed he would have, “but regulations state that no-one’s allowed to bring any food in that hasn’t been prepared in the facility under supervision, to rule out poisoning attempts and the like.”  
Inaho looked mildly disappointed, probably at the fact that that rule applied even to him who would most likely not after so many missed opportunities of killing Slaine switch to poisoning him now that there was nowhere to go, and Slaine instantly regretted he had voiced the incident with the New Year’s food out loud. The last thing he wanted was give the wardens trouble for their kindness, and with Inaho, one never knew how law-abiding he might be with filing official reports and such.

“You shouldn’t have,” he said instead, hoping Inaho had not registered that transgression, but meaning it. Inaho did not look convinced.  
“I am told my cooking is pretty decent,” he argued, as if he had taken Slaine’s polite dismissal as an insult to his culinary skills, but before Slaine had the opportunity to set that right, Inaho leaned down from his chair to pick up the bag he had brought in earlier. “I got you something else instead.”  
Inaho pushed the dark blue plastic bag over the table towards him, and Slaine noted with amusement that going by the logo printed on the corner, it was UFE property. Inaho was a practical person.

“You really didn’t need to get me a present,” Slaine said, shaking his head and not reaching out to take it.  
“I wanted to.”  
Inaho said that so matter-of-factly and irrevocably as if it was self-evident that he would want to, and Slaine realised all struggle would prove futile.  
“I don’t understand you,” he sighed, but took the bag, reaching inside to find a heavy rectangular object wrapped in fancy red paper. The shape immediately gave away the content, and Slaine felt himself smile.

“What is it, a collection of world famous chess games?” he teased, carefully loosening the bits of tape, trying not to rip the paper in the process.  
“You’ll see,” was all he got in response, but there was an undertone to Inaho’s voice that betrayed he was actually curious as to Slaine’s reaction. A bit worried, maybe, and Slaine took his time unfolding the paper.  
When he got a first look at the back cover of the book inside, green and without a dust jacket, instantly a weird feeling of vague nostalgia settled in, the particular kind before one consciously remembered what caused it, and he only heard Inaho as from afar, who apparently had succumbed to his impatience, talking on as Slaine carefully turned the item.

“Copies of books pre-dating both wars are hard to find these days, since along with major cities, we’ve lost a lot of libraries, and private collectors didn’t have the luxury to keep such objectively useless weight with them during evacuations. If as with this one, the original run was small in numbers to begin with, it’s quite difficult to track them down. The UFE Aldnoah research team of course has a collection of his publications, but I don’t have access to them as a mere soldier not affiliated with the scientific branch. I do have a friend, however, who’s an enthusiastic collector of Terran books and was willing to hand his copy over to me, so I could forward it to you.”  
Slaine only half registered what Inaho had told him, his fingertips tracing the gold-print letters on the cover as if he needed tactile proof as to what his eyes were seeing.

“I remember it,” he said quietly into the silence of Inaho waiting for him to elaborate on his reaction, but he kept his eyes on the book in front of him, “from my father’s desk. I don’t know where we were, not even on which continent or at what point in time, but I have this image in my mind of it lying there, next to his journals and folders. It must have been really long ago.”  
“It’s one of his earliest publications,” Inaho agreed, and Slaine looked up at him now. “I thought you should have it. Lawfully, all rights and royalty of his works should be yours, which of course is difficult given that you’re dead to the world. They actually used that money as an argument for justifying your current accommodation.”  
“As long as someone can use my father’s research for something good for our worlds' futures, I’m glad,” Slaine replied, before standing up abruptly and bowing. “Thank you very much, Kaizuka Inaho.”

Inaho received his gratitude with a nod and what might pass for a smile with this person, gesturing for him to take his seat again.  
“I’d have liked to bring you more than one volume of course, but my friend only had that one. He said he’ll try to hunt down others, should the opportunity arise.”  
“You sure take advantage of your friend’s kindness,” Slaine teased, gingerly opening the cover to find a piece of expensive looking stationary tucked behind the book end paper.  
_To the other boy of earth, with best wishes._  
“Your friend wouldn’t happen to be another Versian traitor, would he”, Slaine drawled, lifting his eyes to Inaho again, but the other did not move a muscle.

“Maybe,” he only said, and Slaine huffed.  
“Please convey the Count my thanks, and please don’t trouble him with finding the other editions, I’m sure he has other matters to tend to. This is more than enough, and more than I would ever have dreamed of possessing.”  
“I don’t think he minds,” Inaho disagreed, “and it’s not much, really. Your birthday is proof that you’re alive, so you should celebrate it, and if it’s only by accepting this gift without discussing whether you deserve it or not.”

Slaine closed the book again.  
“Thank you,” he repeated, and it was more a general statement. He had never thanked Inaho for saving his life, and he did not think he would ever be able to do so wholeheartedly because he still did not regret his decision to end his life, but it was a indisputable truth that there were things one could only appreciate when one was alive, and random acts of kindness such as these were part of what made the struggle worth it, sometimes.

“Have you read it?” he then asked, absentmindedly smoothing down the wrapping paper.  
“No. I’ve read a few of your father’s articles that were dealing more specifically with the activation factor, since I’m involved in that ongoing research a little as the team’s test subject, but the topics discussed in this book here are too complicated even for me.”  
“And you call yourself a genius.”  
“I’ve never called myself a genius,” Inaho corrected with unusual vehemence for his general calm, “and even if I should be slightly smarter than average, I don’t have a double doctorate in physics in nanotechnology like your father. There’s limits to what I can understand.”

“Your modesty is a virtue,” Slaine laughed, but a part of him suspected that Inaho probably had not read the book at least partly because he had wanted to give it to him first. It was nothing rational to do, and maybe that was why he did not mention it, but either way, Slaine was grateful. “I doubt I’ll understand a word, then.”  
“That doesn’t matter.”  
Slaine smiled in response, because it was true. For all he cared the book could have been written in a foreign language, too, it was the mere knowledge of the connection and meaning it held to someone dear he had lost that made it invaluable to him.

Inaho got up, not before taking back the bag and wrapping paper, rebuttoning his jacket.  
“I’ll have to leave for now, so I fear there won’t be more birthday celebrations. I could try and forward any wishes you might have for dinner to the kitchen staff on my way out, though.”  
“That’s not necessary. You’ve done more than enough,” Slaine replied, and Inaho smiled.  
“I’m glad if you think so. See you soon, then.”  
He had already turned towards the door when Slaine called after him.  
“One more thing, when is your birthday, Kaizuka Inaho?”

Slaine watched as Inaho seemed to consider the reply for a second, maybe wondering how much personal information he wished to reveal to a former enemy, before replying: “In four weeks from now. Why do you ask?”  
“I want to return the favour,” Slaine answered, and to Inaho’s credit, he did not point out that in Slaine’s position, there was little he could offer in return, instead only voicing what Slaine had earlier: “You don’t have to do that, don’t think you owe me for this.”

“I want to,” Slaine echoed Inaho’s words with a smile. “You said birthdays are supposed to make us grateful we’re still alive, but I think they’re also opportunity for others to express their sentiment on the subject. I’m glad you survived.”  
Maybe more so than he was about his own survival, Slaine thought, but did not say it out loud. He knew Inaho understood, anyway.  
“That feeling is mutual.”  
“Is there anything you want?” Slaine asked, trusting Inaho to not mock his endeavour by listing what was impossible for him to procure. Inaho looked at him in silence, obviously struggling with his reply. He seemed about to say something, but then shook his head.

“Surprise me,” he prompted instead of whatever he had wanted to say originally, and Slaine laughed. Another challenge, he should have seen it coming.  
“I’ll think of something,” he promised, and Inaho smiled back.  
“I’m looking forward to seeing what it’ll be.”  
He had already walked out onto the corridor when he suddenly turned back, leaning in the doorframe.

“Maybe next time we can talk about what you get out of your father’s writing. If you should have the same talent, you might be of use for the UFE more than you are now.”  
Slaine resisted the urge to throw the nearest object in his vicinity at Inaho’s head, since it happened to be the precious volume in front of him, and settled on a verbal retort instead.  
“I’ll lend it to you at some point. I think of the two of us, you’re the one who’s more cut out to be useful.”  
Inaho pondered on that, then settling for a shrug and making attempts to leave once more. Slaine was quite surprised when the other circled back again to the obvious annoyance of the guard outside.

“I think I forgot to actually say it. Happy birthday, Slaine Troyard.”  
Slaine sighed.  
“Just get going, Kaizuka Inaho, and maybe it’ll be a happy day after all.”'  
Inaho simply smiled as he finally walked away, leaving Slaine with a warm feeling of gratitude and the words of his father echoing of pristine white pages. Considering his recent past, it had been his best birthday in years.

 

**Author's Note:**

> There will be an event for Slaine's birthday held next January in Japan, apparently. ~~Season Two when~~
> 
> Going with the series' timeline, the date in question here is in 2017 though, which just so happens to be a Wednesday. So this is probably a good point in time explain the whole Wednesday namesake - it all started out with a conversation between my deer friend and me right after the season finale about who might go and visit Slaine. I suggested Mazuurek would probably come over at some point to recruit Slaine for the Versian Kaizuka Inaho Fanclub (founder and president: Asseylum, vice president: Mazuurek, treasurer: position pending) and maybe invite him for book club meetings, given official art tells us they share that hobby. It went something like this:  
> "We meet every second Wednesday, you're welcome to come if you're free."  
> "Every Wednedsday, I'm here. _In jail_."  
>  It evolved into an ongoing joke between us, so if you spot parts of it in other fics by me, this is not a coincidence. As for Mazuurek, he makes somewhat of a cameo here at long last. The fact that he basically is what Slaine could have been as to being Inaho's ally and spy still fascinates me, and I think they would actually get along really well, bonding over books and Slaine's teacher tendencies and Mazuurek's curiosity. As with Klancain as well, Mazuurek did not seem to hate or disdain Slaine per se, too. All of these three are too diplomatic for their own good. /rant over


End file.
